Refrain From Breaking My Heart
by thatzorokid
Summary: Quinn/Rachel romance. D.E.B.S style.
1. Chapter 1

The day was never over for the Perfect Score.

It was nearly three in the morning and Quinn was still hard at work methodically documenting the night before's mission, organizing her weapon stash, and preparing for her midterm on monday. These last few weeks had been rough and she was in desperate need of a break, not that she would ever tell anyone that. She was the Perfect Score, after all.

Perfect Scores don't get breaks.

"Quinn," a scratchy voice called from behind her. She turned to see Santana in her doorway, squinting at the bright light of Quinn's desk lamp.

"Why are you still awake? It's not good for you to stay up so late."

Quinn smiled softly at the girl, knowing that she wasn't really concerned about her health so much as whether or not she'd have enough energy for the mission tomorrow. Because if there was one thing in this world that Santana Lopez cared about, it was the mission. And she would allow nothing to stand in the way of that, least of all a sleepy partner.

"I'm going to bed soon, I promise," Quinn said, trying to appease the girl. "I just have to finish signing off on one more case file."

Santana rolled her eyes, murmuring a quick 'whatever' before disappearing back into the darkened hall. Quinn sighed, turning back to the work. It really was late, she realized, but this work wouldn't do itself and, as an honor student and the shining example of what a true D.E.B. should aspire to be, it was expected of her to get all of her work done. Too many people expected too many things from her, and she wasn't going to waste hours sleeping when there was work to be done.

It was what everyone wanted her to do, and Quinn had never really learned how to say no.

* * *

"Babe, I'm sorry, okay?" Puck's voice crooned from the telephone pressed to Quinn's ear. She sat perched on the bathroom sink, the back of her head thumping rhythmically against the mirror.

"I'm sorry isn't going to cut it, Puck," she whispered in annoyance, keeping her voice low so she didn't wake the whole house. She had been up the majority of the night working on case files, and she had just managed to fall asleep around 4 AM when her phone rang. One of her contacts had spotted her boyfriend at a party slobbering all over yet another girl. Now it was 6:30, and she still hadn't slept, and Puck was trying to convince her that he wasn't a complete tool bag. He wasn't doing a very good job.

"Look, babe. I'm a man, okay? I have needs."

She sighed.

This wasn't the first time Puck had cheated on her.

In fact, this sort of thing had become a weekly occurence. Puck went out, got drunk, and "accidentally" fell into some other girl's bed. News would always get back to Quinn through one of her multiple connections, and she would call him out on it the next day. He would apologize, she would accept it. Rinse and repeat.

If she was being honest with herself (which she rarely ever is), then Quinn might admit what a relief it is everytime Puck cheats. Because when Puck is in someone else's bed, it means he isn't trying to get into hers. And Quinn is very okay with that.

Because the truth of the matter is that Quinn just isn't that into Puck. Not anymore, at least. Sure, when she first became a D.E.B., it was amazing having the hottest guy want to date you. And, as the Perfect Score, scoring the top dog only furthered her social standing. Being with Puck sky-rocketed her from a know-it-all newbie to THE D.E.B. But as time progressed, Puck became less of a gentlemen and more of a horn-dog, and conservative Quinn was obviously not enough for him. He wasn't very good to her, but he was still her Golden Ticket. He kept her at the top and she was willing to put up with all of Puck's philandering if it meant she could hold on to that position.

"I'm sorry. Really. Forgive me?"

Quinn chewed on her lip, shaking her head.

"Okay. I forgive you."

It was easier this way.

* * *

Just as Quinn wrapped up her phone call, a siren began to blare through the house.

"Wake up! Wake up now, you skirt-wearing hooligans!" a familiar voice boomed through the house, causing Quinn to jump. Mrs. Sylvester could certainly be terrifying sometimes.

Santana snapped up instantly in her bed, gun already in hand and aiming at the door. Realizing it was only Mrs. Sylvester, she relaxed and rolled out of bed, preparing for the rounds. She quickly made her way out into the hallway.

Santana banged on the bedroom door next to hers and a sleep-laden voice shouting, "go away!" She ignored that and pushed the door open anyway, revealing her second teammate who lay sprawled out on the mussed up bed.

"Time to get up," Santana barked, turning to leave. She paused for a moment, however, looking back at the bed and shouting, "And you know the rules, Hummel! No boys in the house!"

And with that she stormed off. Kurt growled at the agitated girl before rolling over and pulling up the sheet, revealing a hispanic twenty-something man beside him.

"Last night was fun, but you need to go now."

Kurt jumped out of his bed and began preparing for his day, not even giving the handsome man a second glance.

Santana moved on to the next bedroom, this time knocking a touch softer. She pushed the door open to find Brittany scrambling under her bed.

"Brit, what-"

"Have you seen my gun?" she asks, looking around the room.

"I think I left it at Disneyland."

"Why did you bring your gun to Disneyland?"

"Santana!" Kurt called.

"What?"

"Get Quinn out of the bathroom! I need to bathe and exfuliate!"

Santana groaned, turning away from the confused blonde and marching to the bathroom door.

"Quinn," she shouted, banging against the wood, "get out. We don't have time for your Puck drama right now!"

Quinn rolled her eyes but complied, exiting the bathroom and rushing to her room. After a few stressful minutes of throwing on clothes and super-speed exfuliation, the four D.E.B.S. were ready to go.

The team gathered in the living room, waiting for Mrs. Sylvester to debrief them. Kurt played absently with his nails, Brittany just stared blankly at the wall, and Santana shot glares at a fidgeting Quinn.

"What?" Quinn snapped.

"You need to dump his ass," she murmured, shaking her head. Quinn scoffed.

"Why? So you can snap him up?"

Before Santana had the chance to respond, the screen was filled with the glorious image that was one Mrs. Sue Sylvester.

"Alright, ladies," she snapped, scanning them all. Kurt didn't even flinch.

He was, after all, the exception to the girls only rule.

Originally, he was on track to join Homeland Security, but certain officials felt that the military's Don't Ask Don't Tell policy should apply to their agents, as well. And, okay, Kurt _might_ have wolf-whistled once at the communal bath house, but still. Kicking him out for that was a touch overdramatic. Not that he was complaining, of course, as Mrs. Sylvester had scooped him up the instant Homeland Security gave him the boot. The thought of wasting his talent sickened her, she said, and there was no way she would just throw him away. She always felt it was better to have the sneaky gays on her side than on the enemy's. Of course, her first mandate for Kurt was that all rules apply to him that apply to the other D.E.B.S.  
This, of course, included the school girl skirt.

"We've got a real hit today," Mrs. Sylvester continued, "I may or may not have had relations with a certain communist dictator this past weekend who may or may not have informed me that one Rachel Berry would be dining at The Sandwich tonight."

She received blank, slightly disturbed stares. Kurt shuddered.

"Which is why the four of you will be there tonight, staking the place out. I want this one alive, got that? I intend to win Best Secret Organization Director Of The Year again, for the seventh consecutive year in a row, and I know that bringing in Berry would sinch it.

"Any questions?"

Brittany started to raise her hand, but Mrs. Sylvester shouted, "I don't care!" and disconnected. Brittany lowered her hand, pouting.

"What was your question, B?" Santana asked.

"I was gonna ask if a communist was like a hippie. It is, right?"

They all just stared at her.

And then there was Brittany. Sweet, somewhat dim Brittany. Quinn wasn't entirely sure how Brittany had managed to get into the program, although she knew the girl had taken the SAT with Santana. It wouldn't be surprising at all if Brittany had just copied down every answer Santana put. Still, what the girl lacked in smarts she more than made up for in skill, as she had been an avid dancer all her life. Brains were good, but when you need someone to perform a perfect pirouette through a mine field while dodging enemy fire, Brittany was the way to go.

"Yeah, Brittany. Just like a hippie."

* * *

Later that night, two women sat together at the downtown restaraunt, The Sandwich, enjoying a meal together. Well, perhaps enjoy might not be the right word. One of the women was currently in the midst of a rant while the other fought to keep her eyes open.

"It really is a rather fascinating idea, you know. The whole 'death ray' concept," Rachel Berry explained.

"It actually originated back in the 1930's-"

She droned on and on, detailing the history of death rays to her bored date, notorious drug smuggler Tina Cohen-Chang. Tina couldn't help but wonder how she managed to get herself into this situation. When her old friend Finn had called asking if she'd go on a blind date, she figured hey, why not? It couldn't be too terrible, right?

Wrong.  
This was Hell.

She had assumed at least that the imfamous Rachel Berry would be an interesting companion, someone that she could relate to on a criminal level. Yeah, that was false. Rachel Berry had spent the last thirty minutes of their date discussing herself, her hobbies, her fascination with locks, and, as of the last ten minutes, death rays. It was horrible.

Rachel, unaware of her date's disinterest, continued telling her all the specific mechanics that were used when building her death ray. Because it should be noted, she notes, that a proper death ray must function in a way that is both menacing and detrimental and it requires the correct amount of nuclear power and ingenuity that only a genius such as herself could produce.

Tina nodded, taking a sip of champagne to hide her yawn. She made a mental note to never do a blind date again. Rachel Berry may be a fantastic thief, but she was a little too crazy and self-absorbed for Tina's taste.

Unbeknownst to the two criminals, however, the D.E.B.S. had arrived.

Quinn was almost shaking with excitement as she watched the two women from her perch above the restaraunt. Finally, they were going to catch Rachel Berry. _The_ Rachel Berry.  
The woman was almost mythical, really.  
Every major diamond theft of the last six years was done by her.  
She had never been captured, never even come close to being caught.  
No one had ever faced Rachel Berry and lived.  
She was a_ legend_.

Quinn knew all about her, had spent months and months researching her. She was preparing a term paper on the reknowned thief, discussing all the perceived aspects of her personality and motivations. No one truly knew what Rachel Berry was like, so Quinn had to guess. Seeing her subject in real life, therefore, was exciting the girl to her core.

They all observed in silence from the swings they sat on a few dozen feet above the diners. Kurt continued to play with his nails, Santana scanned the hall dutifully, and Brittany hummed happily while playing with a duck stuffed animal that Santana had given her for her birthday.

The silence was broken by the whiz of movement as Puck dropped down from above, stopping next to Quinn.

"Hey, babe," Puck said. Quinn rolled her eyes, refusing to respond.

"Come on, you're not still mad at me, are you?"

"Why are you here, Puck?" She was not in the mood to deal with his stupidity right now, not when Rachel Berry was literally a few feet away.

"What, did you think you'd be the only one on Rachel Berry? Everyone's here. The Feds, the CIA."

He gestured around the restaraunt and, sure enough, there were strategically placed agents everywhere. It was borderline ridiculous.

"Nuh uh, Puckerman," Santana snapped, "this is _our_ op. We get Berry." He sneered at her before throwing an arm around Quinn.

"Butt out, Lopez."

The smell of Puck's aftershave and the sight of Rachel Berry were making Quinn dizzy, so she practically shouted, "get off, Puck!" before pushing him off of her, causing his suspended seat to swing. It flew away before slamming back against hers, causing a domino effect with the other girls. Santana cursed, Kurt clung to his seat, and Brittany cried out as her stuffed duck flew out of her hands.

They all watched in horror as the beanie bag toy descended rapidly before bouncing off the top of Rachel Berry's head.

There were a few moments of stunned silence before the thief slowly looked up, locking eyes with Quinn.

And then everything happened instantly. Guns were whipped out, bullets were flying, and the restaraunt was filled with the screams of civilians fleeing.

The instant bullets started flying, Tina was out the door. Rachel watched her leave with annoyance, shaking her head. It didn't matter, she rationalized. Tina hadn't been a particularly interesting date. She had provided absolutely no contributions to their death ray discussion.

Rachel lept skillfully over turned tables and glass-coated counters, sprinting from of the room as bullets echoed behind.

The D.E.B.S. reconvened on the ground floor, Santana quickly taking charge.

"Alright, let's split up. Kurt, you cover the front door, Brit the back. Quinn, you follow towards the left side and I'll handle the right. Ready?" They all nodded, taking off in their respective directions.

Quinn took off, racing out the door and into a long corridor of boxes. She sprinted down the line, spotting an exit door at the end. Just as she'd reached it, another body slammed into her, sending her sprawling on the floor. She clutched her head in pain, as it had thudded against the floor, and pulled herself up.

"I am SO sorry," the other person all but shouted, jumping up and brushing herself off.

"No no, it was my fault. Sorry about that, I didn't look where I was going," Quinn apologized, glancing at the girl before her. Her throat constricted immediately. It was Rachel Berry.

Rachel, however, hadn't noticed who it was that she'd run into, so she continued.

"Really, it's probably my fault. Sometimes my balance is a touch off and it causes me to stumble easily, often into other people. Once, actually, I was running down-" Rachel trailed off as she took in the sight of the person before her: white top, plaid skirt, a gun. A D.E.B.

In an instant their guns were drawn, both pointing at the other's face.

"Drop it."

"You drop it!"

"You first!"

"I'm not- look, as entertaining as this back and forth banter is, I really must be going," Rachel sighed, cocking her gun. Quinn followed suit.

"I can't let you do that," Quinn said slowly.

"Come on, it's late and I am exhausted. This has been an incredibly demanding day and I am really not in the mood to die right now, alright? So what do you say we just put the guns down and talk?"

Quinn watched the other girl carefully before glancing back at the entrance. She lowered her gun.

"Fine."

Rachel lowered hers as well, smiling.

"See? Isn't this so much better? Guns are so unnecessary. I personally enjoy using more sophisticated weapons, such as death rays. In fact-"

Quinn eyed her suspiciously, tuning her out as she started an absurd rant on death rays. This was... odd. I mean, the rambling girl in front of her was nothing like the Rachel Berry she had been studying. This girl was talkative, kind of annoying, and seemed particularly harmless. Not at all like the badass diamond thief she expected.

"You're still under arrest, you know," Quinn said, cutting the ramble off. Rachel quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Actually, I have to disagree with that. You see, I just got back in town a few days ago and I would really rather not start this week out in maximum security."

"Well that's too bad, but I'm sure you'll be nice and warm in solitary." Quinn said, raising her gun again. This had gone on enough.

Rachel smiled. She liked this girl. After the rather uneventful date Finn had set her up on, she was somewhat excited to have this sort of word play. Plus, this D.E.B. was all kinds of hot. Rachel opened her mouth to say something when a noise down the hall caught her attention.

The door Quinn had entered in slammed and she could hear Brittany calling her name. She turned towards the girl, which Rachel immediately took advantage of. She stepped forward, skillfully knocking the gun from Quinn's hand, and pulled the other girl towards her. Quinn gasped as her back was pressed against Rachel's front, a gun pressed to her collarbone.

"What-"

"Quinn!" Brittany called, suddenly coming in to view. She stopped instantly when she saw the two of them, however. Rachel glared at her.

"I ask that you please stay there, as I would really prefer not to ruin my new cardigan with brain matter and viscera." Rachel called out, her gun moving from Quinn's collarbone to face Brittany, who just watched her with a confused face.

"...That's a kind of make up, right?"

Rachel's gun wavered for a moment, before straightening out.

"I... I'm being serious, stay back."  
Her grip on Quinn's waist tightened, her hand slipping casually over bare midriff. Quinn fought back a shiver at the contact. She wasn't used to being touched there.

"Just stay there, B," Quinn whispered, her hands gripping the arm around her waist. She could feel Rachel's smile pressed into her hair as the girl dragged her backwards. Brittany stood there obediently, watching with a sad and confused look, obviously uncertain of what to do.

"Bye, Quinn," she said sadly as the retreating figures disappeared through a side door. She pulled her hostage along, moving down two back alleys before settling in the middle of one. In an instant Quinn found herself being spun around and shoved roughly against the wall, the smaller girl invading her space. She felt the gun at her chin, and suddenly this wasn't the rambling girl from the warehouse. This was Rachel Berry. _And no one has ever faced Rachel Berry and lived._

"So your name is Quinn, then?" the thief asked, smiling at her captive. Quinn gulped, her eyes locked steadfast on Rachel's. She nodded.

"Do you have a last name, _Quinn_?"Rachel's smile took on a predatorial glint, her eyes darting between Quinn's lips, eyes, and the side door they had just escaped through. Quinn nodded again, swallowing.

"Fabray."

Rachel leaned forward, pressing her mouth against the other girl's ear as she cocked the gun.

"Close your eyes, Quinn Fabray."

Quinn couldn't help but let out a whimper as her eyes slid shut, her hands bunching the other girl's cardigan. A second passed where they just stood like that, pressed against each other on the wall. And then suddenly Quinn's hands were empty, the pressure alleviated. Slowly, her eyes slid open.

Rachel was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

AN: Thank you to those two who reviewed the last chapter :D and for those who added this story to watch/ favorite. Totally motivated me to crank out more.

* * *

"This is stupid," Finn said as he watched Rachel flutter about their secret lair. The entire room was covered in clothes.

"Your face is stupid," she responded, grabbing a blue sweater from the top of the nearest pile. She held it up to herself, glancing in the full body mirror.

"What about this one?"

"Too blue. And seriously, Rach, this is possibly the stupidest idea you've ever had. And that's including that time you tried to sink Australia."

She tossed the blue sweater aside, instead grabbing at a seafoam green tank top and holding it up to herself.

"I resent that. I had a completely justifiable reason for that endeavour."

"Which was?"

"I didn't like their attitude."

Finn rolled his eyes.

"Whatever. That- that doesn't even compare to how stupid this idea is!"

Rachel pouted.

"You said you wanted me to start dating."

"Yeah, dating criminals! I didn't mean you should try to date a D.E.B.!"

Rachel scoffed, tugging her shirt off in exchange for the tank. Finn looked away, blushing.

"But I think she might be the one," she murmured through the fabric, pulling it down and staring in the mirror. Finn scoffed, glancing back at her now that she was covered.

"You don't even know her yet!"

Rachel turned on him, her face set in that determined way that almost always spelled disaster.

"Exactly. That is precisely why I must get to know her. You and I both know that one cannot judge a person by the first encounter. I mean, look at us."

Finn looked sheepish at that. She was right, of course. The first time Finn and Rachel had met, she'd been robbing a bank that he was guarding. At the time, Finn was a rent-a-cop. Not a very good one, but a cop none the less. And the day Rachel highjacked an armoured bank car, Finn had been taking an unauthorized nap in the back atop all the money. Rachel had been quite surprised to discover him when she returned home. They had a fairly angry word exchange before Finn realized that he was in a hopeless situation. He figured she'd kill him. She surprised him, then, when she offered him a job.

It hadn't taken much (or any) convincing to get Finn to switch sides, and he had been her faithful sidekick/best friend ever since.

"Okay, yeah, Rachel, maybe some people aren't what you first think they are, but Quinn Fabray? She is!"

Rachel scoffed, fixing her make up in the mirror and trying to ignore the pessimistic energy coming off of Finn. He would have none of that, however, as he grabbed her shoulder dramatically.

"I got Artie to look into her. She's not just any D.E.B., okay? She's THE D.E.B. She's the Perfect Score! Perfect Score's don't date diamond thieves!"

Rachel ran a brush through her hair, smiling at her reflection. She looked good. Real good.

"We'll see about that."

* * *

Quinn yawned as she moved about the laundry room, throwing dirty clothes in the wash. It was late, but this was the only time she ever had to get her laundry done. Sleep was overrated anyway.

Knowing that her teammates had long since been asleep, Quinn slowly started humming. She never sang around them, ever, as displaying any interest in anything unrelated to D.E.B. work would reflect poorly on her. So it was only late at night when she was alone that she endulged in one of her loves. After a few more moments, she began to sing.

_"Give me the beat boys and free my soul_

_I wanna get lost in your rock and roll and drift away..."_

"You're really good," a voice said from behind her. Quinn jumped, her head slamming against the top of the washing machine she'd been leaning into. She pulled herself out, clutching her head in pain as she turned to find one grinning Rachel Berry standing before her.

"What-" she tried, but struggled to say more in her disorientation.

"Dobie Gray, right? Classic. I'm a bit of a music aficionado myself. If I weren't already such a fantastic thief, I might even consider pursuing a career in musi-"

"What are you doing here?" Quinn shouted, then covered her mouth quickly, not wanting to wake the neighborhood.

Rachel beamed.

"I came to see you."

It had actually been quite an ordeal, breaking into the D.E.B. house. Rachel had been forced to scale an impressive wall, cut her way through a strangely plaid force field, carefully cross a minefield, suction-cup climb her way up two stories, and then jimmy the lock off of Quinn's bedroom window. And then, of course, she had to wander around until she found Quinn in the laundry room. It was all rather exhausting. To be quite honest, she wouldn't object to taking a moment to breathe.

But she didn't have a moment, as Quinn was there and watching her and Rachel had to act now before she alerted the rest of the house. Rachel took slow, calculated steps towards her. Quinn's eyes widened in alarm.

"We're leaving," Rachel announced, smirking at the blonde. Quinn stood tall, staring her down.

"I don't think so."

Rachel smiled broadly, continuing her advance.

"That's cute how you think you have a choice."

Quinn lashed out then, striking at Rachel's face. It missed by only inches, thanks to the thief's quick movements as she tore away and threw a kick at Quinn. Quinn caught her leg, twisting it and forcing the girl down on her knees. Rachel yanked free and swept her legs out, bringing her down as well. They struggled against each other, blocking and punching and kicking, none of their hits really landing.

It's at that moment that Quinn spots the crossbow peaking out of Brittany's laundry basket which, honestly, isn't even a surprise. It would be more unusual in this household for there not to be a medieval weapon stashed amongst the undergarments. She glanced at Rachel, but the girl's eyes were on the crossbow as well. Crap.

She leapt for it at the exact same moment Rachel did, the two colliding in a desperate scramble. There were punches and laundry flying all about as the two scuffled, rolling and tangled on the floor. Quinn flailed blindly, striking at whatever she could, praying she would feel the cool metal of the crossbow in her hands.

And then she found herself on her back, the other girl straddling her hips and pressing the crossbow to her stomache. Laundry fluttered silently to the ground around them.

Damn.

"Looks like we're two to zero, Quinn Fabray," Rachel panted, smiling deviously down on her once-again captive. Quinn huffed, trying to catch her breath.

"I'll get you next time."

Rachel smirked down at the panting girl beneath her, resting her free hand beside Quinn's head. She leaned down, her face just inches from the other girl, smiling when she saw Quinn's eyes flutter. She whispered against her lips,

"Let's go."

And without anymore preamble she marched the girl out of the house and out to Quinn's car. Quinn didn't even ask when the girl pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the door. This was Rachel Berry, after all. Why would she not have a set of keys to Quinn's car? Rachel moved quickly, shoving her in and running to the driver's side. Without a word she started the car and drove off, the crossbow in her hand pressed to Quinn's side.

The car was silent for a few minutes.

"Where are we going, guys?" Brittany asked, popping up in the backseat. Quinn screamed and Rachel swerved off the road for a few moments.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Rachel shouted, staring at the girl in the rearview mirror. Brittany, unfazed, just mumbles,

"I sleep walk sometimes. I usually wake up on the roof... or sometimes at Chuck E. Cheese."

They just stared at the blonde in silence for a few moments before Rachel stopped the car completely.

"Get out."

"Alright!" Quinn chirped, starting to open her door. The lock clicked shut on the passenger side and she felt the crossbow press harder against her side.

"Nice try. I meant her," she said, gesturing towards Brittany. There was no way she was letting this girl ruin her night with Quinn.

"Get out!"

Brittany, who never responds well to shouting, pouted, her lower lip trembling as she struggled to open the door.

"Now look what you did!" Quinn said, gesturing towards the sniffling girl.

"You're making her cry!" Brittany continued to struggle with the door as a tear slipped, but she was unable get it to open. Rachel sat, horrified, her mouth opening and closing for a few moments.

"I didn't... I mean... look, don't- don't cry! It's okay! You can stay! Really, it's okay." Rachel couldn't even believe what she was saying. She wanted this girl to leave, not stay! But damn it, she'd always been a sucker for tears.

Brittany beamed at her then, wiping her eyes with her sleeve and settling into her seat. Rachel started the car up again with a sigh, now driving her two passengers off into the night.

"Good, 'cause the child's lock on this door is ridiculous."

Quinn glanced back at the door.

"Brit, that door isn't even locked."

"Oh."

* * *

Quinn, who assumed they were being taken to some dark and evil lair to be tortured, was surprised when they pulled up to a seemingly safe night club. She stared at Rachel skeptically, but the girl just ordered her to get out of the car.

Rachel dragged the two girls into the club by their wrists, determined to keep her carefully mapped plan for tonight on track. Spotting Finn by the bar, she pulled her hostages through the crowd towards him.

She shoved Brittany into him, forcing him to catch her lest they both tumble over.

"Watch this," she ordered before dragging Quinn in the other direction. Quinn glanced back in concern, watching Brittany and Finn stare at each other blankly.

"Hi," Finn said slowly. Brittany beamed.

"Hi there. Do you want to see my new yo-yo?"

At that, Finn beamed.

"Hell yeah I do!"

* * *

Quinn stared out at the dancers in the center of the club, refusing to meet Rachel's eyes. The girl had been rambling on about death rays for nearly twenty minutes. Quinn took another sip of her drink, sighing.

She had no idea what to make of Rachel Berry.

One minute, she was this alluring entity that could take on anything.

The next, she was rambling on in detail about the makings of nuclear weaponry and famous thieves she aspires to be like. She confused Quinn to no end and Quinn had no idea how to handle it.

"-and that's how I came this close to taking over the world," Rachel finished.

"Hmm," Quinn responded, still looking out at the dance floor. Rachel sighed, running a hand through her hair.

"I.. I'm sorry. I can go off on tangents sometimes. I'm just not really good at this whole, you know, dating thing."

Quinn stiffened up instantly.

"W-what do you mean dating thing?"

A seductive look crossed Rachel's face as she narrowed her eyes at her.

"This," she said, gesturing at the two of them and the night club they were in. "This whole dating thing."

All of the color drained from Quinn's face.

"This is not a date!"

Rachel giggled, taking a long sip of her drink.

"If you say so, Quinn..."

Quinn turned away, her face turning red at Rachel's words. This was not a date. She had been kidnapped. Forced to come. This was not a date.

"So, have you always wanted to be a D.E.B.?" Rachel asked suddenly, remembering Finn's advise: stop talking about yourself and listen!

Quinn eyed her suspiciously at the sudden topic change, though her D.E.B.S. training soon took over as she recited the monologue she'd been taught since day one.

"Well, it is such an honor to be a part of the program and I certainly appreciate all of the opportunities it presen-"

"Stop," Rachel interrupted, shaking her head, "I don't need your press release, Quinn. This isn't a test or anything. I just want to know if this is the life you always wanted, you know?"

Quinn stared at her, uncertain. Everyone always wanted the 'press release', as she so delicately put it. Every question was a test. Always. No one had ever genuinely wanted to know her feelings or opinions. They always just accepted her pre-planned answer and forced smile, accepting that she was the two dimensional Perfect Score. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond to this situation and her first instincts told her to keep up her facade, but one look at the honest curiousity in Rachel's eyes convinced her to try the truth for a change. She gulped back the rest of her drink before answering.

"I mean, no, not really, I guess. The whole D.E.B.S. thing just sort of happened, really," she said, not meeting Rachel's eyes.

"It's kind of stupid, really, but I always dreamed of doing something in music and singing. Not anything major, or anything, maybe even just being a music teacher. There was even a school I was gonna go to that specialized in music education majors but, you know, the whole D.E.B.S thing happened, and, well... yeah..." she trailed off into silence, her face flushing red with embarassment. How stupid could she be, going off on a rant like that? She never talked about the music school, not with anyone. Put your game face on, she thought to herself. You're slipping.

"I don't think it's stupid at all," Rachel chirped in suddenly. Quinn stared at her with uncertainty, studying the brunette to see if she was lying, but the girl just smiled at her.

"Well, your voice could use a little work, as it is a bit sharp, but you certainly have the potential to teach music." And then she flashed her a genuine smile that melted Quinn's heart in an instant.

"Yeah but it's kind of pathetic, right?" Quinn shifted in discomfort, not at all used to people actually supporting her dreams. She could practically hear Santana's voice in her head. Music? Really, Quinn? You would throw away all of this for music?

"I mean, going from being a D.E.B. to a music teacher? Not exactly a step up." These weren't even her words, not really. She was regurgitating everything she's been told since the day she took the SAT.

Someone with your potential shouldn't waste their time teaching showtunes to a bunch of achne ridden neanderthals, Ms. Sylvester had said.

Kurt had scoffed at her the one time she mentioned it to him. Whatever you say. Just don't come crying back to us when you get bored teaching thirteen olds their chords.

Even Brittany didn't understand her dreams. Maybe you can sing to the bad guys while we're arresting them. That's kinda the same thing, right?

"I disagree," Rachel said, her face and tone completely serious. "I believe that if you have a dream, even if it's something seemingly minute and simple, than there would be nothing greater than to achieve it."

Quinn stared at her in shock, her mouth slightly agape. No one had ever told her anything like that. Success was something you could carefully measure, it was never relative. How could this girl be so radically different, so unlike anything Quinn had ever seen? Quinn felt almost light-headed at the thought. This was all overwhelming her.

"Yeah, well, you might be the only person in the world that thinks that."

Rachel scoffed.

"So? Who cares what anyone else thinks? It's your life, Quinn. Not theres. Don't let them decide what you do with it. If you want to sing, sing."

She spoke so softly and sweetly that Quinn could almost feel tears building in her eyes. This was too much. She turned away, looking for a distraction from this surprisingly serious moment. Her eyes fell on the gyrating bodies a few feet away. That would definitely be a distraction.

"Wanna dance?" she asked in a soft voice. Rachel's smile only grew as she nodded fiercely and dragged the other girl from their booth to the dance floor.

"Not to brag, but I also happen to excel at dancing. I actually took dance for eighteen years, you know. In fact, if I weren't already a phenomenal thief-"

"Just dance, you freak," Quinn said, cutting her off with a laugh, pulling the girl towards her as she began to sway to the beat. Rachel just nodded, her hands resting on Quinn's hips. The two moved together, their bodies pressing against each others. They danced song after song, hips and legs and arms brushing. This was a good distraction, Quinn decided. She couldn't handle thinking about her future or her dreams, but she could definitely handle dancing.

Rachel smiled at her, a genuine smile that struck Quinn in a way she didn't even want to think about. The thief pulled her into her arms as the song slowed, subtly sliding her hands into Quinn's back pockets.

"Watch it, Berry," Quinn warned half-heartedly, her own arms wrapped around the girl's neck as they swayed. Rachel giggled, curling her hands in the pockets and nuzzling Quin neck affectionately, the slow dance song blasting through the stereos encircling them. Warm, tingling feelings start dancing through her stomache at the close contact. And suddenly dancing with the thief, who had announced not even twenty minutes before that she considered this a 'date', didn't seem so smart after all. Quinn realized then, as Rachel's lips brushed her neck, that her distraction plan had backfired.

Majorly backfired.

Rachel seemed to sense the change between them as well, as she slowly pulled back to look Quinn in the eyes, her own eyes a darker shade than Quinn had ever seen. Their noses brushed, breaths mingling, and Quinn saw Rachel's eyes flick down to her lips.

Quinn gulped, pulling away.

"I, uh, have to go to the washroom," she shouted over the music before taking off, desperate to put distance between herself and this dangerous situation. She practically sprinted to the bathroom.

* * *

She stood with a death grip on the sink, staring at her reflection. She had spent the last minute rubbing water on her face, trying to lessen the heat there. Now she just stood, staring at her dripping face in the mirror.

_You have a boyfriend,_ her inner voice chimed.

"I know," she whispered.

_She's the enemy._

"I know."

_She's a girl._

"I know, dammit!" she shouted, slamming her hands on the counter in frustration. This wasn't supposed to happen. Too many years have been spent working dilligently towards her future. There was no way she would throw it away for, what? A crazy midget thief? A career as a music teacher?

Love?

The bathroom door slamming against the tiled wall jerked her from her musings, and she watched in the mirror as Rachel entered, her face set in an unreadable expression. Quinn slowly turned around.

They watched each other in silence for a moment, their eyes locked, before Rachel began moving forward.

Quinn met her half-way, their lips colliding. Rachel was propelled back into the bathroom door, slamming it shut.

The shorter girl clung to her as Quinn's hands ran down her chest before sliding up and under her shirt. Hands tugged at the blonde's hair as her teeth nipped at her throat, shoving her back against the door again. The whiny, breathless little noises Rachel was making made Quinn incoherent, unable to focus on anything but touch and taste and oh, Rachel's hands were sliding up her thighs.

Rachel pushed, walking Quinn backwards while their tongues met, forcing her away from the door and towards the sinks. She slammed her against the nearest stall, her knee between the other girl's legs causing Quinn to whimper into her mouth. A few more moments were spent there, grinding against the stall, before Rachel was moving her again.

She couldn't help but moan as Rachel pushed her back onto the counter, quickly stepping between her legs. Quinn clung desperately to her, her hands alternating between gripping her shirt and tugging at her hair as Rachel's mouth pressed to her lips, her jaw, her collarbone, the top of her tank top...

"Guys," a voice called from behind them, causing them to jump apart. They stood frozen in place, panting and terrified. Quinn gaped at the wide and innocent eyes of Brittany, who stood in the doorway.

"Santana called and she's, like, freaking out. She asked where we were, but don't worry. I didn't tell her we were out with Rachel and Finn. I came up with a good cover. But she said if we weren't home in an hour, she'd come looking for us. So, uh, I'll be in the car I guess."

And with that Brittany was gone, leaving two panting, mussed up, and uncomfortable women in her wake.

Rachel was the first to recover, as she quickly began smoothing her shirt back down over her belly button. Quinn just remained frozen, staring at the bathroom door in horror.

"Quinn?" Rachel said before clearing the husk out of her voice. Quinn's eyes turned to Rachel's, only to grow wider at the sight of the girl before her: glazed eyes, clothes in disarray, and hair that screamed sex. Quinn felt a wave of arousal hit her, closely followed by a wave of horror.

She had just been making out with Rachel Berry.

Rachel Berry the diamond thief, the same one she was supposed to be hunting.

_And Brittany had walked in on them._

Without a word she pushed from the counter, racing past the flustered Rachel and out the door. She could hear the thief calling her name, but she didn't stop to think until she was driving the car out of the parking lot, Brittany happily humming beside her.

Quinn gulped, flexing her grip on the wheel a few times, trying to build up her courage.

"Brittany," Quinn started as she drove the two home. "About what you saw back there..."

Brittany just smiled, shaking her head.

"Oh, it's fine, Q. I know you were just practicing."

Quinn frowned, unsure of what she meant.

"Practicing?"

"Yeah, like for when you get with boys and stuff. That's what Santana always tells me, you know, that we do that kind of stuff together to practice. She says it's very important to be prepared."

Quinn had no idea how to respond to that, so she just turned her eyes back to the road, driving in silent contemplation as Brittany softly sang,

_"One fish, two fish, red fish, blue fish..."_

* * *

Santana was waiting for them when they arrived.

"Where the hell have you two been?" she snapped, tugging Brittany to her and giving the girl a once over, checking for injuries.

"Out. Like Brittany said," Quinn said in a monotone voice, far too tired and confused to even think of a better response.

"You really expect me to believe that the two of you were out feeding ducks at three in the morning?"

Quinn felt the urge to press her face into her palm. This was the reason Brittany should never be allowed to make up cover stories.

"Look I was stressing out over all this Berry stuff and needed a cigarette. Brittany wanted to come with me."

Santana pulled back then, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Well well, little miss Perfect Score smokes? Guess you aren't as perfect as they say."

Quinn let out a shuddering sigh, pushing past the two girls and heading towards the door. She pretended not to notice the way Santana fawned over Brittany, still checking the girl for any injuries.

"You have no idea..."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So sorry for the wait! Every time I tried to upload this chapter the formatting would freak out and I would just give up. Anyway, here is chapter 3. Also, thank all of you for the favs, reviews, and alerts! You all are my motivation..

* * *

It had been a week since "The Incident," as Quinn had dubbed it in her mind. A week of stumbling through procedures and trying desperately not to think about a certain brunette. Santana still kept a wary eye on her, although Quinn's pretty sure Brittany didn't tell her anything about- Quinn couldn't even bring herself to acknowledge it. About _it_.

Still, it had been a week of normal life without any Rachel Berry drama. Quinn hoped that maybe she could just move on and pretend that she didn't make out with Rachel Berry in a public restroom. All hopes were dashed, however, when the alarm sounded one morning and Santana screamed, "It's Berry! She's hitting a bank!"

And Quinn felt her stomach do acrobats because really, there was no way she'd be moving on.

The D.E.B.S. crept carefully through the bank, keenly aware of any movement around them.

"Alright, let's split up," Santana whispered, and soon everyone was breaking off into different directions. Quinn had just turned to head towards the back offices when a hand lashed out, pulling her into the vault.  
Quinn let out a little yelp as she crashed into a table, and she turned quickly to see Rachel standing there.

"We need to talk," Rachel said, pulling the door shut behind her and standing in front of it.  
She crossed her arms and stood tall, trying to look intimidating. Quinn watched her in mild amusement, eyebrows raised.

"What are you doing?"

"I've called you sixteen times, Quinn. Sixteen! And you haven't answered any of them. I know we need to talk about what happened and I needed to get you to talk to me."

"So you decided to rob a bank?" Quinn asks, staring at Rachel like she had grown two heads. Rachel just shrugged.

"It got your attention, didn't it?" She said as she moved to one of the shelves in the room and started gathering up money and putting it into a bag.

"Rachel," Quinn warned, stepping up to stop the girl. Honestly, she couldn't just stand there and let her steal the money. She was a D.E.B., after all.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Rachel demanded, ignoring Quinn's warning.

"Maybe because you're a criminal and I'm a D.E.B," she said, watching as the girl fluttered about the room.

"Really? Because I was under the impression that it was because you were afraid of your attraction to me."

"I'm not attracted to you," Quinn says as her eyes trail the length of Rachel's legs. This really wasn't even fair, what with Rachel bending over to pick up money bags in such a dangerously short skirt. Rachel glanced back at her, catching Quinn's blatant staring. She scoffed and Quinn looked away, turning red.

"Of course you aren't. So, hey, why don't you go on a second date with me?" Rachel asked, drawing Quinn's attention away from her assets. Quinn huffed.

"First off, that wasn't a date. It doesn't count if you kidnap someone and, and you need to stop calling that a date! Secondly, no!" Rachel sighed in frustration. She moved closer to Quinn, causing the girl to stumble backwards.

"Why are you acting like this? Was it something I did or said? I understand that my personality can be a lot to handle and I am admittedly high maintenance but I can honestly attest that-" Quinn cut her off with a hand, silencing the rambling.

"Can you just.. Stop talking for a second?" Quinn said, her cheeks a light red as she tried to gaze anywhere but Rachel. There was no way she could let the girl keep talking, not when watching her mouth move had an incredibly inappropriate affect on Quinn's mind.

Because really, the moment you're reasserting your heterosexuality is not the time to start having dirty thoughts about a girl's mouth. That same mouth that was now pressing a kiss to your palm. Quinn yanked her hand back, clutching it as if it had been burned.  
_  
Bad._

"S-stop that," Quinn hissed. A slow, knowing smile spread across Rachel's face as she started prowling towards Quinn, backing her into one of the money stands.

"Stop what, Quinn?" she asked with a predator's smile, eyeing Quinn like she's the catch of the day. "Stop this?"

She leaned forward, pressing a slow, open mouthed kiss to Quinn's throat. The other girl gasped, her fingers flexing in the other girl's shirt.

"Y-yes," Quinn managed, turning her head as if to get away when all she was really doing was opening her neck up for Rachel's onslaught.

"Are you saying yes stop," Rachel teased, nipping at her jaw line, "Or _yes, please don't stop_?" Rachel didn't wait for an answer, her nips and kisses traveling up and along her face before finally stopping at her mouth. Quinn reciprocated immediately, sighing softly.

Rachel reached behind them and swept the money piles off the stand behind Quinn. She helped lift Quinn onto the cabinet, their mouths never separating. She could practically feel the other girl purring, her hands sliding down and under Rachel's shirt.

A soft beeping sound emitted from Quinn's pocket, telling her one of her teammates was calling. Neither girl noticed. In fact, they were so caught up in their moment that they hardly noticed the vault door flying open.

"Hey guys!"

Both girls let out a scream, jumping apart only to find wide-eyed Brittany standing behind them. Rachel literally growled.

"Everytime..."

Quinn squeezed her hand, sending her a disapproving glare.

"Uh, hey Brittany," she murmured, her face red and flustered. Brittany blinked.

"Santana sent me to find you. Is Finn here?"

"Yes, Brittany, Finn is here. In fact, if you go right out that door you'll find him in the lobby pretending to be working. Why don't you go say hello?" Rachel said with a strained smile. Brittany just giggled and ran from the room, leaving Quinn still pinned to the wall by the thief.

Quinn pushed Rachel away roughly then, causing the girl to stumble.

"That," she says in a shuddering breath, "can never happen again."

They both watch each other silently, sizing each other up. Rachel could see her walls flying up again, now that their moment had been broken. She made a mental note to have Brittany tied up and sent somewhere far away the next time she wanted Quinn alone. After a few more moments of tense silence, Rachel finally stepped away and moved over to the money piles from before. Quinn stiffened.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Quinn asked.

"Well, if you're not going to agree to a second date with me then I might as well do something productive. I'm going to steal this money."

Quinn stood up a little straighter then, feeling the mood shift to something she can handle. Rachel smiled. This was the Quinn she preferred: cool, calm, and confident. Quinn may not be ready to face her (obvious) homosexuality, but she could definitely face a thief.

"I can't let you do that," Quinn said evenly, watching the thief.

Rachel smiled.

"Try and stop me."

Quinn smiled, leaping at Rachel.

Barely any punches were thrown before Quinn found herself unceremoniously thrown into an adjoining office, the door slamming shut behind her.

"Looks like it's three to zero now, Quinn Fabray," Rachel said with a laugh, disappearing from sight. Quinn sighed, glancing down at the door knob, frustrated.

"I'll get you next time."

* * *

And it turns out that she really did get her next time, as not even two days later they found themselves in a warehouse, sparring. Apparently this warehouse contains secret government shipments that Berry wanted to steal, so of course the police sent the D.E.B.S. down to investigate. Quinn had been patrolling the east corridor when a hand had flown out, pulling her into an office.  
Instantly she turned, flipping her hand out of Rachel's grasp and spinning the girl, pressing her to the wall. She reached for her handcuffs, managing to get one of them on her before the girl kicked back, knocking her knees to the side and forcing her to the ground. A second later she turned, slamming the empty cuff down over Quinn's wrist, handcuffing the two together.  
Quinn glared at her.

"Well, I'm glad that I have your attention now," Rachel Berry said with a smirk. Quinn reached into her pocket for the handcuff keys. Rachel's hand lashed out, snatching them from her and dangling them in front of her face. Quinn sighed.

"Fine, Berry. What do you want?"  
Rachel's face instantly lit up at the prospect of talking.

"Well Quinn, now that we're dating I need to go ahead and clarify that-"

"Woah! We are not dating, you freak!"

"Listen here, Treasure Trail," Quinn bites, stepping into Rachel's space, "I do not have time for your stupid little games. I have two midterms coming up, an entire team completely dependent on my full attention, a boyfriend who refuses to keep it in his pants and-"

Rachel stared at her with wide eyes, wondering if this is what it was like to sit through one of her rambles. Because really, as hot as Quinn looked when she was all flustered and angry with her hip jutting out and her face a light red, having to listen to her whine was quickly becoming tedious. Not to mention the extensive list of topics Rachel had hoped to discuss.

And so Rachel did the only thing she could think of: she kissed her.

Now, Rachel anticipated many outcomes of that move: a punch to the face, a scream of "I'm straight!", a gun appearing in Quinn's hand from who-knows-where aimed at her face.

What she didn't expect, however, was for Quinn to _whimper._

And not just any whimper, oh no. This was the softest, most pitifully adorable whimper she'd ever heard. And a free hand found  
its way into Rachel's hair while the other tugged helplessly at her handcuff. Rachel smiled into the kiss, drawing it out slowly. This was a far cry from their past encounters; they took their time learning each other, free hands sliding slowly over clothed bodies.

After what felt like an eternity, Rachel pulled back. Quinn stood there, her lips parted and her eyes closed. Rachel couldn't resist the urge to lean back in, quickly kissing her once more.

"Now that we're dating," she says before kissing her again, "I need you to know that I can be an incredibly high maintenance girlfriend." Her lips traveled over Quinn's cheek, down until she was kissing that spot on the side of Quinn's neck that turned her to jelly. She walked the girl backwards until the back of her knees hit the chair, causing her to fall into it.

"Uh huh," Quinn breathed.

"And also," Rachel continued, nipping at the spot and making her gasp, "I'm vegan, so when we actually start going on dates, we will have to carefully select certain restaraunts. I already have a color coded list of suitable establishments back in my lair."

"Yeah," Quinn sighed.

"Not to mention the whole 'I have an addiction to stealing expensive things'. All of that asside, do you accept my crazy? Do you still want to be my girlfriend?" Rachel was essentially straddling her now, her free hand running up and down her arm while she continued to nip at Quinn's neck.

"Yes," Quinn practically hissed.

Rachel smiled, pulling back.

"Wonderful. Now that we've gotten that out of the way, I really have to go." Rachel stood up then, much to Quinn's disdain. Quinn watched with confused, half-lidded eyes as Rachel slid the key into the handcuff and freed herself. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to Quinn's forehead, and whispered, "I'll see you soon."

Moments later, as the blood finally started flowing to Quinn's brain again, a terrifying thought struck her.  
_  
Wait, what just happened?  
_

Two days later, a call comes in: Rachel Berry is robbing a museum just across town. Everyone is shocked that she's hit so many places in the same town, but they just count it a blessing; its another chance to catch her. Quinn knows better; she knows what Rachel's trying to do. And it won't work.

Really, it won't.

"This won't work," she whispered into the glass case that protected some mummified cat as Rachel Berry slid her hands up and over her stomach, all while pressing kisses to the back of her neck.

"I'm not," Quinn tried, gasping as Rachel bit down roughly on her shoulder before soothing it with a kiss. "I'm not into girls," she finally managed. Rachel let out a decidedly unlady-like snort before murmuring, "right."

And Quinn really did want to protest that, to stress that _no really, she was totally straight,_ but then Rachel started doing this whirly thing with her tongue and her hand had crept under Quinn's bra, and suddenly Quinn couldn't actually remember what it is they were talking about.

And had she been in the state of mind to form rational thoughts, she might have wondered how it was that she kept ending up in situations like this. It seemed like every time she was within ten feet of Rachel she would find herself pressed up against some surface with hands wandering under clothes. This was becoming a habit, and not a good one for a straight, in-a-relationship-with-a-boy D.E.B. to have.

Rachel twirled Quinn around and pressed her back against the case, her mouth continuing to trail down the front of her throat.

"I missed you," she whispered softly. Quinn chuckled huskily, her hands threading through brown hair.

"We did this two days ago," she whispered back, and Rachel tried to not get too excited at how she didn't immediately say _not that we're ever doing this again_ or _stop trying to gayify me, ya homo_. So Rachel decided to test the waters even further.

"Can't a girl miss her girlfriend?"

Quinn froze, but Rachel only increased her assault on that particular spot of Quinn's throat, causing the girl to slowly thaw back out into the puddle she'd been.

"I guess I maybe missed you a little, too," she gasped as fingers slid up her thighs beneath her skirt. Rachel smiled into her collarbone.

A loud bang followed by a curse came from the locked entrance a few yards away, and Quinn reluctantly pushed Rachel away.

"Look you need to go now, they're coming," Quinn said, trying to clasp her bra shut with shaking hands. Rachel stood beside her, staring out over the Egyptian artifacts at the door with a serious look on her face. Quinn finally managed to close her bra and quickly pulled her shirt close. She glanced up at Rachel standing there, frozen.

"Rach?"

Rachel's eyes tore to her, emotions that Quinn couldn't interpret dancing through them.

"Come with me," she said. Quinn gaped at her.

"What?"

"Right now, just.. Now. Right now, let's just go. You and me. Let's just get in my car and go," Rachel said, jumbled and pausing and stumbling in a rather un-Rachel Berry like fashion. Quinn swallowed, clearing her throat twice.

"You want me to run away with you?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh of relief, glad her message came across.

"No," she whispered. Rachel closed her eyes in pain, looking away.

"I'm sorry, I can't." And she couldn't. She was a D.E.B., after all. She had duties, she had loyalties. Running away with a criminal, that - that is just not an option in her life.  
Rachel nodded, not meeting her eyes.

"Maybe next time, then." 

* * *

A pattern quickly developed between the two. Rachel would rob some place nearby, the D.E.B.S. would rush in to stop her, and she'd snatch Quinn away for a little alone time. Each time it happened, Quinn fought back a little less than the time before, and soon she hardly fought back at all.

Soon she was initiating rendezvous, going out of her way to find Rachel first.

During once such time, Rachel was sneaking through the halls of a paint gallery, keeping an eye out for any meddling D.E.B.S. A soft scuffing sound drew her attention to a corner, and Rachel started to head there when suddenly she was slammed face forward into the wall, a pair of handcuffs slipping onto her wrist.

"You're under arrest," Quinn whispered against her ear. Quinn's hands slid from the cuffed wrists down to shamelessly rest on Rachel's ass. Rachel smirked, her face still pressed into the wall.

"Looks like you caught me," Rachel teased as she was flipped around and pressed against the wall. Quinn moved against her body, pressing her lips to the thief's ear.

"Four to one now, Rachel Berry."

Quinn nipped at her ear, her hands sliding to the top bottom of Rachel's shirt, slowly unbuttoning it. She leaned down, pressing a kiss to the newly exposed skin.

"I'll get you next time," Rachel whispered hoarsely, her eyes fluttering close and her hands straining at the cuffs. Quinn glanced around the empty room before continuing her exploration, all the while pressing soft kisses to newly exposed skin.

"You know," Rachel murmured, "If you arrest me, we can't do this anymore."

Quinn laughed before saying, "Well then I guess I better not arrest you, huh?" At that Rachel smiled and whipped her hands around, revealing two handcuff-less wrists.

"Thank goodness, as I was tired of pretending to still be bound." Quinn just gawked at her. How did she manage to escape that? The look of total confusion on Quinn's face made Rachel chuckle before pulling the other girl up and into her arms.

"Baby, I'm the greatest thief on the planet. Did you really think I wouldn't know how to pick a pair of _handcuffs_?" Quinn pouted, wrapping the other girl in her arms and resting her chin on her head.

"And you've got humility to boot," she added. Rachel laughed. Suddenly, a loud and feminine cry of, "over here!" caught their attention. Quinn stepped back.

"Damn it, that was Kurt. You've got to go," and even she looked pained to say it. Rachel's expression hardened.

"Run away with me," Rachel demanded. Quinn whipped around, staring at her with stony eyes.

"Rachel, I already told you..."

"I know, Quinn, but just... Come on, right now. Let's just," she paused, her face serious in concentration as the silence gave way to approaching sirens.

"Let's just go, okay? Just get in my car and not look back."

Quinn worried her lip, her eyes flashing to the window as red and blue lights flashed from the street. Rachel's eyes were locked on hers, seemingly unaware of the police that had just pulled into the parking lot a few stories below.

"Rachel, I can't- I can't just…" Quinn felt tears prickling her eyes and cursed herself. _Keep it together._

"I can't."

Rachel nodded, stepping forward and pressing a kiss to Quinn's forehead.

"Maybe next time, then."

And with that, she turned and fled the room, leaving a teary D.E.B. in her wake.

* * *

This was getting harder and harder each day. Whenever Quinn closed her eyes, she saw Rachel. Whenever Quinn was working, she wondered what Rachel was doing. Whenever the alarm sounded and someone shouted, "It's Berry again!", her heart skipped a beat and she wondered just how much time she'd have with the brunette.

Because she was starting to want Rachel all the time, and it was starting to show.  
"What's up with you?" Santana had barked one day, glaring at the blonde. Quinn, who had been day-dreaming about Rachel, just murmured a quick, "huh?"

"You've been slipping lately, Q. It's like you're never really here anymore." Quinn tensed up immediately. She couldn't afford to slip, not when she had so much going for her. What with her career (a job she didn't really want to begin with), not to mention Puck (who is probably sleeping with another girl at this moment). And her responsibility, her duty to fight criminals (like Rachel, who has such a devilish smile and gentle hands).

Quinn shook her head.  
She needed to get it together.

Even her interactions with Puck were becoming stilted. Whenever he would lean in for a kiss, she would immediately turn away, cringing at the rough scruff sliding on his face.

"Babe," he drawled in annoyance. "Why are you acting like this?" And she would force a pathetic smile and say she wasn't feeling good, maybe later. She made sure later never came.

And as Quinn trudged up to her bedroom at the end of the day, she was almost dreading trying to sleep. Because the last few weeks she had barely been able to sleep back home at the D.E.B.S. house. Every night, she would toss and turn for hours. Just as she reached the brink of sleep she would reach out, feeling around the bed only to find it empty. That would wake her right back up. She was yearning for someone that she shouldn't want.

Quinn walked into her dark bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"Hello, Quinn," a voice said from the darkness. She jumped, quickly scrambling to turn on the light switch on to find a smiling Rachel Berry sitting on her bed.

"What are you doing here?" Quinn asked, whispering. If they knew Rachel was here...

"I'm sorry," she said, looking down nervously in her lap and twiddling her fingers, "for just showing up like this. I just- I haven't been sleeping well, lately, and I thought maybe..." She let it trail off there, her eyes wide and hopeful. Quinn smiled before flipping the lights off again and slowly climbing onto the bed.

"Let's sleep," Quinn murmured, wrapping herself around the shorter girl.  
Rachel sighed in relief, cuddling up to the blonde.

"Run away with me," she whispered. Quinn pressed her face into the girl's neck, and she was shocked to find tears welling in her eyes. She figured it was because of her long day, you know, and not her impending mental break down.

"I can't."

"Why can't you? I'll take you away from all of this. It'll be you and me." Sniffling, Quinn closed her eyes as the tears fell. Every day her resolve weakened, every day she felt more drawn to Rachel and more distant from her own life.

"Where would we go?" she said.

"Anywhere.. Everywhere. England, Italy, Spain, France. Anywhere you want." Rachel stroked her hair affectionately as the blonde shook against her.

"I've always wanted to go to Spain," Quinn whispered hoarsely. Rachel smiled.

"Spain it is, then. We'll move to some country town where no one has ever heard of us, and you can teach a music class at the local school. We'll have a garden where I can grow our organic all-natural fruits and vegetables." Quinn giggled, nuzzling her again.

"Sounds wonderful," she said.

"It will be. And all you have to do is say yes, and I'll take you away forever." Rachel paused, she could feel her eyes welling up with unshed tears. This whole affair, the sneaking around and stolen moments, it was becoming too much. She didn't want Quinn in stolen moments. She wanted her all the time.

"Please let me take you away, Quinn." And there it was, it was out there. Rachel waited quietly for the rejection, waited for nearly two minutes in silence before finally whispering,

"Quinn?"

But Quinn didn't answer, as she had already fallen asleep.

* * *

The day had been rough.

The D.E.B.S had chased Rachel through a crowded subway station, bullets flying. Quinn could still feel the gun richoting in her hand, could still see the bullet fly and miss Rachel by a foot._ If I'd aimed a little to the left,_ she thought as she sat on her bed,_ I could have killed her._ Tears were falling freely now, mingling with the dirt that coated her face. _I could have killed her_.  
It had come so close this time. Their rendezvous had been interrupted early and Quinn had been forced to don the role of D.E.B. (that's what it felt like these days; a role) and join in the pursuit of Rachel. She had watched as the girl scrambled over and around obstacles, desperately trying to outrun the D.E.B. team.

Brittany had managed to chase Rachel into the subway station and Kurt had blocked the opposite entrance. Quinn and Santana had pursued on foot through the station, zigzagging around terrified civilians as they chased the thief. At one point during the hunt, Quinn had had a clear shot of Rachel.

"Take the shot, Quinn!" Santana had ordered and, on instinct, Quinn had raised the gun and fired. The bullet had crashed through the windows of the subway train by Rachel's head, and the girl had dropped to the ground, staring wide-eyed at Quinn.

Eyes locked for what felt like an eternity before Rachel was on her feet again, running. Quinn just stood there, frozen, watching her disappear into the subway tunnel.

They spent the rest of the day searching through the soot of the tunnel, but they never caught up to the girl, and now everytime Quinn closed her eyes she saw Rachel's terrified eyes as she squatted by the train. Terrified of Quinn.  
_  
I could have killed her.  
_  
Quinn flew from the bed in a stumbling run, just barely making it to the bathroom before throwing up. She sank to the floor by the toilet bowl, cuddling to it. This was becoming too much. Her life, her career... everything that was ever important to her was too much and she was quickly losing her mental stability. All she wanted was Rachel.

After a few more dry heaves, Quinn wandered back into her bedroom. Even in her exhausted state she wasn't that surprised to see an equally exhausted looking Rachel Berry sitting on her bed, watching her. Without a word, Quinn moved to the bed and climbed in, cuddling up to the thief. Rachel welcomed her, wrapping her arms around her and resting her chin atop her head.

A comfortable silence filled the room, a sense of home. This was where they had wanted to be all day; cuddled together.

"Run away with me," Rachel whispered suddenly, like so many times before. And just like every other time, she was met with a moment of silence. She resigned herself to the silence and was just starting to slip into a hazy sleep when a soft voice responded, shattering her expectations.

"Okay. Let's run away."


End file.
